Nostalgia is a dangerous thing but that doesn't mean that ignoring it is going to make it go away. Our reaction to dangerous things should not be avoidance; on the contrary, we must look dangerous things straight in the eye and understand what to do about them. I've made this point on the blog before, specifically when writing about the allure of power metal and the underlying emotions (and politics) at the base of that allure. Of course, power metal is not alone in channeling emotions which can be problematic: nostalgia is more the realm of progressive rock and heavy metal and, specifically, the very English marriage of these two genres. Think Wytch Hazel or, of course, Iron Maiden. Nostalgia is at the core of these bands and that's not accident, as it lies at the core of English culture in general. Even before Tolkien, but of course intensely mediated by Tolkien to the modern age, the core of English myth (whether Arthurian or otherwise) is of a time and place long lost, of golden ages that will never return and sun-washed islands that can never be reached.
It's easy to scoff at these themes. But they exist and they are powerful and affective (in the sense that they generate emotions in the people who consume them) for millions of people so scoffing at them is very unhelpful. We should look at these themes head on and ask ourselves: what is the danger in the appeal of these themes (conservatism, fascism, passivity, and more) and what is their benefit (community, natural preservation, honor, and more)? How do we make art that accentuates what is good about these themes and helps people build a more healthy relationship with, in this example, the past of the places in which they were born or that capture their imagination? Whether intentionally or not (and, in this case, I suspect it was very intentionally indeed), Phantom Spell's latest release is an amazing example of how to do this.
Heather & Hearth, as said release is titled, is a wonderful exploration of everything that is good and true about the myths that move our hearts. It's also, and I cannot stress this enough, an album that was made specifically for me. It is equal parts Iron Maiden heavy metal (who I still rank as my all time favorite band) and glorious, unshackled, "bright" progressive rock in the style of Yes and Wishbone Ash. Actually, I also cannot stress enough how much this album is influenced by Wishbone Ash. All you have to do is listen to the (glorious, magnificent) opening track, "The Autumn Citadel", and pay special attention to the guitars on the last two minutes. You'll hear that tell-tale dual lead guitar sound that screams Wishbone Ash.
Anyway, back to the album and its themes - added to these musical ideas you'll find themes like old lost kingdoms (the aforementioned "The Autumn Citadel" is all about that), journeys to far away times and places, and, most importantly for me, a folk worship of nature. That last one is most important to me for two reasons. First, it drives the self-titled fifth track of the album and that track is just pure pleasure for me. It's probably my favorite track of 2025. It makes me cry and yell in song and a big part of that is its message of seeking to be one with nature. Secondly, it's important to me because that is exactly the message that is so often co-opted by fascists and other assorted numb-nuts.
In the wake of the Left's retreat from these things in metal (on which you can read more here), the right has been given almost exclusive access and control over how we tell these stories, especially in England. They have infused it with messages of vicious individualism and purposeless power, blind to how contrary these ideas run to the very idea of natural ecosystems. "Heather & Hearth" (both track and album) is a fantastic example of how we can tell counter stories to these false interpretations of what connection to nature means. The lyrics to the track (again, backed by some of the most beautiful guitars I've heard all year and sung in Kyle McNeill's deep timbre) are all about how nature binds us together, parts of a greater whole, nourished and uplifted by belonging instead of by individualistic strife. However, it doesn't give up on the theme of deep time and nature themselves, which would turn the whole exercise moot; it draws deeply on returning to the land, on fading into the greater whole, on the allure and appeal of nature as humans actually experience it.
I could go on, and so could the album, diving in and out of these themes and images along its runtime. Suffice it to say that I think that Heather & Hearth should be a template both for how we write excellent heavy metal in 2025 and for how we think about nature. It's a great example for how we can rethink our place in that weird, all encompassing, and absolutely essential thing and what lessons we can and should draw from the past about it. Also, if you can listen to everything happening after the six minute mark on "Heather & Hearth" and not have your heart burst with joy, then I don't know what to tell you. I don't. I love this album so much for how it melds amazing music with these important themes and I can't wait to spend years and years getting to know it better.
Heather & Hearth releases on July 18th. Please, please, PLEASE buy and listen to this album. Also, sick ass skeleton on the cover hell yeah.